


Who's Zoomin' Who

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Break Up, Comedy, Femslash, Het, Kissing, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Partners, New Caprica, Past Relationship(s), Politics, Safe Sex Discussions, Sexually Transmitted Diseases, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:32:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6182470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"By the way, I got the syph, how 'bout you?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's Zoomin' Who

**Author's Note:**

> Quotes and title borrowed from Grey's Anatomy.

Cottle was starting to miss Roslin in ways he didn't think possible. She'd been a devious and ruthless person and Cottle still wanted to shake her for believing the hysteria and banning abortion, but compared to President Baltar, Laura Roslin was damned manly.

"What is it? Oh, God, tell me that it's not..." and Baltar began to flap his hands in a way that made him look like a complete moron, not the leader of humanity that he was supposed to be.

"It's syphilis," Cottle said, standing up and shaking his head. "You're going to need antibiotics before it gets any worse."

"Do you think it's reached my brain yet?" Baltar asked, trembling slightly. "It hasn't, has it? Tell me you can cure me!"

"You're going to need antibiotics," Cottle repeated. "And then I'm going to need a list of your sexual partners for the last month so I can help them before this becomes an epidemic. Next time, you might consider using a prophylactic."

"I am the president!" Baltar said snottily, giving Cottle a glance that was at once supercilious and pathetic. "I will not be spoken to like that."

"You've got syphilis you contracted from frakking a whore," Cottle said. "You're spreading disease around a city that doesn't need this strain on its resources. If you are the president, sir, you'll pull your head from your ass and give me the list."

Sullenly, Baltar went over to his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. He wrote down a list of ten names, paused, crossed out two, and added three more. Cottle waited, but a frown line had appeared on Baltar's forehead. The little man was clearly deep in thought, and Cottle once again regretfully wished for the days of faking the deaths of infants and lying about advanced breast cancer.

Two minutes later, Baltar was still in thought. That or he was thinking about something else like the useless bastard he was.

"Mister President?" Cottle inquired.

"I think these are all," he said. "The festival for the opening of the factory was two months ago, right?"

Cottle didn't want to know, and he was starting to suspect that he already had a syphilis epidemic on his hands without even a look at the list.

"We're going to need to make a general announcement to the community," he said. "And do presentations about VD."

"Out of the question," Baltar said, folding his arms. "This is a personal problem and it should stay personal."

"Nobody has to trace it back to you," Cottle replied. "But if this is in the community, I want it taken care of before we run out of penicillin, and so do you. Mister President."

Baltar's gaze darkened, but as usual, something seemed to persuade him otherwise. Cottle was pretty sure there was something wrong with the man -- some kind of mental illness that didn't show up on a scan -- but this time the persuading force gave him a good answer.

"I suppose for the sake of the children, you're right," he said. "But be discreet about it, man! And do work with Mr. Gaeta on this, he's the best at making sure business runs smoothly..."

* * *

"Oh, you have got to be KIDDING me," Lee said, looking at the latest dispatch from New Caprica City. "An outbreak of sexually transmitted disease? What the frak's that all about?"

"Someone's got the syph," Dee answered, without even looking up from whatever mundane task she was at. "I was talking to Racetrack and she said that about three people on Galactica and one over here has it."

Lee shook his head emphatically. "Make sure everyone aboard Pegasus knows that if they think they're at risk, I want them tested."

"Yes, sir, Major Adama, sir," Dee teased. "What, are you worried that you've got it, too?"

"Not at all. It's just a real bitch if you don't catch it first frakking thing," Lee answered. "But what, you have something to tell me, Petty Officer Dualla?"

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Dee said with a smile. "Unless you have something to tell me."

"Well, I did eat the last jar of fruit," Lee said. "But no, I didn't have sex with a member of the population who would give me syphilis. Not since I started dating you, anyway."

Dee paused. "So does that mean you maybe had sex with a non-syph-having person since you started dating me, or that before me, you were frakking whores?" she asked. "Wait. Before I even answer that one, let's pretend you did."

"We're fine, Dee," Lee said. "I promise."

"Okay, we're fine," Dee said, shrugging. "I never really thought we weren't."

And as far as Lee was concerned, that was exactly how it was going to stay.

* * *

"Seventy-five people," Cottle said grimly, sitting down at one of the school tables. "I never thought I'd have to set up a grade-school primer on how to prevent getting cooties for grown-ups again."

Both the former president and her teacher's assistant laughed. Roslin was playing with the Cylon child as if it was her own, making it grin and giggle. The mother -- Maya, Cottle recalled -- was looking on with the kind of twitterpated look that screamed love. And Cottle didn't think it was aimed at the baby, either.

"We could draw pictures," Maya answered saucily, leering at Roslin. "Cartoon pictures of the syphilis bacterium. Well, Laura could draw them, and I could write the words on the board."

Laura indeed. Something was going on there, Cottle knew, but he wasn't going to get involved. Besides, it was better than Roslin going after the old man to make a good impression on the citizens of New Caprica.

"Get tested. Use condoms. Ask about your partner's sexual history," Roslin recited. "What are you using for the safer sex demonstration?"

Cottle smiled at both of the young ladies, and winked at Maya, who blushed and giggled. Roslin rolled her eyes expressively and bounced the baby, who cooed and chortled.

"Some anonymous patriot donated an anatomically correct sex toy," Cottle said. "I would have used some kind of vegetable, but those are harder to find around here."

Maya laughed harder, covering up her face with her hands. Roslin walked over to the girl and gave her a little smack on the shoulder, shaking her head and clearly trying not to laugh. Maya made a kissy-face at Roslin, who glanced over at Cottle pointedly.

"You're not fooling anyone," Cottle said dryly. "Either of you. Give her a kiss."

Roslin sighed dramatically and kissed Maya before handing her the baby and turning back to Cottle with a look that dared him to say anything and her hands on her hips.

"You're a bad liar most of the time," Cottle said diffidently. "Are you two ready to teach your parents the basics of safe sex?"

"When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they do a special kind of hug," Maya said facetiously. "Of course, mommy or daddy could have loved...other people...before that, and that can give you a special kind of disease known as a venereal disease."

From the way Roslin buried her head in her arms and groaned, Cottle realized that he was definitely going to like Maya. Anyone who could unsettle the former president like that was definitely worth more than a damn.

* * *

Kara and Samuel were at the third night of information sessions about the outbreak of syphilis that had hit at least two hundred people. Neither of them were worried in the least about syphilis, but they were required by law to show, and it was kind of amusing, seeing who looked worried and who didn't.

"Wrap it up or don't play," Kara said to her husband under her breath as people settled in. "I mean, how hard can that one be?"

Of course, there were few things funnier than Cottle, Roslin, and the cute girl who worked with Roslin at the school doing the demonstrations. That alone was bringing people to the school, and Kara dimly wondered if Roslin was subjecting herself to public humiliation just for that purpose.

Because she was currently holding a very realistic looking fake penis, and she looked as composed as Kara had ever seen her. In fact, Samuel was having a harder time with it than Roslin was, apparently.

"Your former president is kind of my hero," Samuel said in a pig's whisper. "I think I met her one time, when the Buccaneers were doing an appearance at a school, too."

"Yeah, she's a hoot," Starbuck said, trying not to giggle as Cottle informed people if they weren't getting tested because they were embarrassed, they were going to be a hell of a lot more embarrassed when it got worse and they went blind and crazy and couldn't be helped.

"Well, you go up there and hold a dildo without cracking up," Samuel said. "I dare you. You'd be using it like a gun in fifteen seconds."

"No, it's totally meant to be a **sword** ," Kara said, cracking up. About ten people swiveled around to hush them. "Well, who wants to use it like a gun, honestly?"

After a moment, Kara realized everyone was looking at them. Including Roslin, who was giving her the _frak-off-and-die, Starbuck_ smile.

"Um," Kara said. "Sorry."

"It's all right," Roslin said. "Maya, why don't you write the main points of our presentation on the board for everyone? A sign-up sheet for blood testing will then go around for your convenience."

"Are the results anonymous?" someone asked.

"As anonymous as we can make them," Cottle said.

"Do you know who started this mess?" someone else asked. "Who's the ass who couldn't keep it zipped?"

Cottle and Roslin exchanged a glance and sighed.

"Remember the part about being anonymous?" Kara said. "Geez, it's not like most of this room hasn't frakked around a little. End of the world and all -- usually means time for a little ill-advised screwing."

By the heat of everyone's glares, Kara got the feeling that most people didn't want to admit that. Especially when Kara noticed that Roslin's eyes immediately looked away, then at the assistant, and then at her shoes.

"What's all that about?" Samuel whispered in Kara's ear, rubbing her back lightly. "People are getting crazy here."

"Well, who wants to have syphilis?" Kara whispered back. "Especially if it was a mistake in the first place."

* * *

Ellen Tigh had been around the block -- and for once, that made her more bearable. She was taking it like a pro, to boot, telling Cottle that she could do whatever course of antibiotics was more convenient to him.

"I imagine with all the first-timers, you're doing a lot of shots to the ass," she said. "If you can get Saul and I the pills, I'll make sure he takes them."

"You're pretty sanguine about having a dangerous disease," Cottle said. "What happens if we don't have enough to go around next time?"

"Next time, I'm going to make sure I don't frak either Zarek or Baltar. Or that Gaeta," Ellen said boredly. She looked at her nails and cleaned one while Cottle started parceling out her pills. "He used to be such a nice boy, and then he took up with Baltar and now... what's the world coming to, huh, Doc?"

"Exactly what it was always going to, settling on this dirtball," Cottle said, lighting a cigarette. "Doesn't really make me all that confident about the future of humanity."

"Speaking of humanity, has either Adama sent in a blood test?" Ellen asked tartly.

"That's none of your damn business," Cottle replied as idly as he could.

Ellen smirked. "I'm just saying if they haven't, they ought to. Roslin, too, but given she's playing nurse for you, I imagine she's been all confess-y about her midnight shenanigans post-election."

Cottle waited for her to gloat just long enough, and then took a long drag on his cigarette. "You slept with Zarek and Baltar? Anyone else? I think I've narrowed down my vectors of disease, but I want to make sure."

"Honestly, it's getting boring," Ellen admitted. "I might take up a new hobby, especially with syphilis running around."

"Might be a plan," Cottle agreed.

* * *

"I didn't think I'd have to come up here and ask for blood tests," Cottle said, giving Adama a look that he'd last seen after coming out of the second chest surgery. "After your chest injuries, you have to understand you can't frak around with this."

Bill Adama glared at the doctor. "Are you suggesting I've been irresponsible?"

"Ellen Tigh suggested that you might have had a sexual partner or two in the last two months," Cottle said.

Adama snorted derisively. "Ellen's got an active imagination," he said. "And syphilis."

Cottle paused. "I need to know when," he said.

"Nothing happened," Adama said. "In fact, if Ellen were any good at spreading malicious rumors, she would have been able to add that after the inauguration and the destruction of Cloud Nine, Ms. Roslin and I fell out rather dramatically."

"That's your own business," Cottle said. "I'm warning you for your own good that if you've been sexually active, you need to let me know. There aren't that many people we can't replace, but you're one of 'em."

Shaking his head, Bill Adama looked down. "She seeing that girl?" he asked. "The pretty one at the school."

It was Cottle's turn to snort. "I thought Ellen Tigh only spread malicious rumors," he said.

"Doesn't mean I don't know when they're true," Adama said laconically.

* * *

"You know I don't think the admiral could have given you...that...if that's what you're worried about," Maya said, erasing the board as Laura cleaned up. Adults were much, much messier than children, and they had class in the morning.

"What?" Laura asked, pretending to be distracted. This was not something that she exactly wanted to discuss with Maya. Not now, and honestly, not ever.

"Don't make me have to say," Maya said. "I mean, you were really close with Admiral Adama. It's not a bad thing -- there's a reason why the outbreak's pretty big. Stress makes people get horny, and there are stranger bedfellows than you and Adama."

Laura chuckled. "I don't really think so," she said. "But then again, the admiral and I failed spectacularly at our second and third kiss."

"So who was it, then?" Maya asked, walking over and looping her arm around Laura's waist. "We have to be honest, remember? There's Isis to worry about."

She set her chin on Laura's shoulder with a definite sigh. Laura was still slightly uncomfortable with how affectionate Maya could be in public. It was more a reaction to years of being more than discreet about sex than disliking being touched -- for example, the tickle of Maya's breath on her neck was very nice -- but it was there.

"I was very upset," Laura said. "And I ran into someone I'd been close to before -- gods, this is ridiculous. I'd had an affair with him, and I was angry, and the admiral had insulted me -- so I slept with my old flame."

"Does he have a name?" Maya asked insistently.

Laura told her. Maya sighed.

"I didn't want to tell you," Laura pointed out

"You slept with Major Adama? That's...maybe you should get tested, just to be safe," Maya said. "I mean, not to be -- you knew about his...girl, right?"

"That was after the affair," Laura said stiffly.

"But before the one-night stand of intense Baltar-hatred," Maya pointed out. "Maybe you should talk to him."

Laura groaned, and Maya pulled her in for a long, long hug that included much ashamed face-hiding, a few quick stolen kisses, and ended with Isis waking up and fussing.

"Cottle is going to give me grief for a month," Laura said. "I hope you're happy."

"Not having syphilis will make me very happy," Maya said. "Hire a sitter happy."

Laura's hands flew to her face again, but this time she was laughing. "You," she said. "What am I going to do about you?"

"You are going to get checked out and then find a sitter while plotting ways to get back at me," Maya said cheerfully. "And I'm going to love every minute of it."

* * *

"You're fine," Cottle told Apollo dryly. "But you've been acting like a damn fool."

There was at least one bit of good news that came from Dee confronting Lee with the latest bit of ugly gossip from the rumor mill, about how both Adamas had syphilis, they'd gotten it from Roslin (and gods knew where she had gotten it -- Lee bitterly wondered if Baltar was a possibility), who they'd been passing between them like...something obscene.

Dee had been a little bit pissed, and Lee's terrible explanation about how the old habit of being there to listen to the president's -- former president's -- political irritations had turned into other old habits had only made matters worse.

"You had an affair with Roslin?" Dee asked. "Until you guys got back from Kobol? Are you frakking kidding me? I thought that was crap Ellen Tigh made up because you wouldn't frak her."

Lee had wanted to fall into a pit, as one of the reasons Lee didn't talk about his affair with Laura was that it led to a series of extremely embarrassing questions that he didn't like answering.

"Who started it?" for example.

"She did," Lee said. "Well, both of us, really. We were hiding out and I was pouring her a shot of ambrosia and she said something about how the last time we were this close...um, stuff had happened."

"And then stuff, um, **happened?** " Dee asked.

She could definitely be sarcastic when she wanted to be, and Lee was not going to mention that he hadn't meant to keep going. He'd been sober enough to want to stop, but then Laura had done that thing she did, finding the spot under his earlobe that turned him on and they'd been at it for a good hour after that.

"You could say that," Lee said. Thinking, vaguely, of how damn hot Laura was when she had nothing left to lose, and how she'd snarled at him about his father being too much of a gentleman.

Lee hadn't been a gentleman. Not even a little bit, and Laura'd screamed for him, come to herself about ten minutes later, and screamed at him.

"All right, then," Dee said, snorting hard. "At least you didn't give President Roslin syphilis."

"Thank the gods," Lee agreed.

But now he was stuck on the phone to New Caprica, and there was Miss Roslin, looking vaguely annoyed and ashamed.

"Commander Adama," she said in that bitch-goddess voice of hers, the one that had always turned him on a little bit.

"Ms. Roslin," he said as formally and coolly as he could. "My test results were negative."

"Good," she said.

"How are you holding up?" Lee asked.

"I've been assisting in the informational sessions about the outbreak after teaching school all day," Laura said. "It's a bit of a grind, and this did lead to more stress in my life."

"I'm sorry. I like your sweater," Lee said.

"Thank you," Laura said. "I'm glad you don't have syphilis."

"Me, too," Lee said.

They both began laughing then, and after a moment, Laura wiped her eyes and smiled at him, a real genuine smile. Or maybe the static made it look real instead of strained.

"Your father is going to kill you later," Laura said. "And Dualla."

"What about you? Anyone going to kill you?" Lee asked.

"Maybe," Laura said. "Actually, I have to go. There's a little errand I have to run."

She began to giggle again, and the good-bye was hasty. But despite that, Lee suddenly felt very good.

After all, he didn't have syphilis.

* * *

Two weeks of near-panic and things on New Caprica were finally getting back to normal. Labor was whining again, and women were actually smiling at Baltar again.

Honestly, syphilis was hideously embarrassing. And whoever had given it to him deserved to be put in stocks for a day.

"Mister President," Gaeta said, walking into the stateroom. "Tom Zarek here to see you."

"Send him right in," Baltar said, straightening his tie and sitting up. After all, one was respectful to one's closest allies who had access to black market goods.

Zarek took one look around Baltar's stateroom, walked up to the president of the Twelve Colonies, and hit him in the mouth.

"You gave me syphilis," was Zarek's carefree explanation.

"How the frak -- Gaeta, get me some ice, please -- did I do that?" Baltar asked, aware that he should have the man arrested, but not particularly wanting news to get out that the president had been syphilitic. Diminished the office.

"Ellen Tigh informed me that the only other person besides her husband who had shared her bed in the past month was you," Zarek said. "Roslin should be president, not you. She wouldn't have given a good two hundred and twenty-seven people syphilis."

Baltar snorted. "No, she's too busy dividing her time between the Adama boys and that bit of crumpet she teaches with," he said.

"You gave us syphilis?" Gaeta asked, giving Baltar a very dirty look. "Sir."

"Yes, I am the bastard who caught and spread syphilis," Baltar said. "Thank you, Tom, I was trying to be discreet for the sake of the office. Of course, without me being responsible and reporting myself to Cottle, who knows how frakking far it would have traveled..."

A light feminine snort. Baltar looked around, as he hadn't seen his Six in weeks -- since Gina had destroyed Cloud Nine, as a point of fact -- but she was nowhere to be seen.

"Next time, be discreet in general," Zarek said. He stood up and left, and Gaeta followed him, stomping off as politely as he could.

"Really," Baltar said snippily.

"Oh, don't be grouchy, Gaius," his Six teased, still invisible. "After all, it was Gina's last gift to you, as well."

"Gina? That's impossible," Baltar said.

"Are you sure?" Six asked. "After all, she didn't want anything she touched to survive, and that was a way to scorch the earth, wasn't it?"

Baltar put his head on his desk. The audacity. The absolute horror of it. The...the bloody indignity.

"Frakking wonderful," he said. "If anyone wants me, I am going to be in my bed, ignoring the next crisis until well after I am drunk."

Silence.

And wasn't that great, too? Didn't anyone understand how difficult his work was? Or how much he had to rein himself in because he was president? And now his own allies were turning on him.

It was official: Gaius Baltar hated his job.

And was having a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.


End file.
